


Bettas are just P(r)etty Assholes

by DefendersofMCUniverse (GeekMom13)



Category: Deadpool (Comics), Deadpool (Movieverse), Deadpool - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Comicverse), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mermaids, Betta Peter, Bettas are Assholes, But Pretty Assholes, Consentacles, Crack Treat Seriously, Eggpreg, Improper Use of Bubble Nests, M/M, Merctopus hitman Wade, Mermaid Sex, Mermaids, Past Celine Dion/Wade Wilson, Past Trauma discussed, Peter doesn't approve, Wade deserves a (kelp) cookie, Wade kills someone, mermaid anatomy, minor character death (villain), team fuck canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:53:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22700533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GeekMom13/pseuds/DefendersofMCUniverse
Summary: Wade really loved his job- going around taking care of pointless mers and eating all the best food in the ocean. But he really, really hated Bettas. They were grumpy, conceited, and liked to get in his way far too much, even when they failed miserably. (They always failed, Wade just hated the superficial scars they left. Because, honestly, he already looked like Neptune’s left nutsack, did they need to make it worse?)Really, how hard was it to just… let him kill the worthless mers of the pod? It’s not like he took on contracts for the productive members of pod-ciety.It just figures that one assignment he meets a Betta-mer who changes everything.Why the fuck did he have to be so pretty?
Relationships: Peter Parker/Wade Wilson
Comments: 27
Kudos: 332
Collections: Spideypool Big Bang - The 2019 Collection





	Bettas are just P(r)etty Assholes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SpiderKatana](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpiderKatana/gifts), [Vixen13](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vixen13/gifts).



> thank vix, dev, katana, and bamf. Also everyone who was in the server being awesome throughout and of course the mods.  
>   
> Vixen honestly hammered out a few of these paragraphs where I just went "I'm lost. the world is ending, I'm never going to finish this." (I'm dramatic and she's honestly someone I'm honored to call my friend, and so blessed to call her my beta for this too.)  
> [Katana has been one of my favorite artists to work with and I swear the unending enthusiasm drove a great bit of the creation.](https://spiderkatana.tumblr.com/post/190819569963/spideypool-big-bang-2019-art-masterpost-bettas)  
> The group chat was so full of gifs it would hurt to load if I was paying for data and I'm so glad both of you contributed. I treasure my MGG gifs.  
> Even if I did at one point flip y'all off.
> 
> Interesting quote from the creation of this fic:  
> I just mentally declared myself calamari (a wee snack), but it'll be sushi (a full meal that should probably be prepared by professionals but you're taking a risk since I made it) by the time I'm done.  
>   
> People are gonna hate me. There’s Croods quotes. And probably Turbo quotes soon. Might add in some Pikachu if I’m feeling spicy.
> 
> I mean, I rarely give a shit myself BUT ITS A ROMANTIC DAY  
> ...and  
> ...people  
> ...are getting fish dick
> 
> I like how it looks like the tip has almost claws beneath the skin
> 
> why are you letting me go full tilt on weird mating practices
> 
> I didn't wanna brainstorm fucking ideas with you before you got an artist! Bc then you'd get attached to an idea and the artist would be to squeamish and then you'd tell at me!  
> fucking as in literal fucking

Wade _hated_ getting contracts in the betta-mer territories. He took them— because pearls were pearls, and honestly, he could do worse. There weren’t many who were annoyed enough to search him out and hire him anymore. Most of his new contracts came from mers stumbling across him after jobs as he sat waiting to get the rest of his pay. And this had been a cross-oceanic journey of a hit contract.

See, running into him at random could be explained away, so it was how he got most of his contracts. Easy to sneak by with little punishment— a few months of cleanup or cave digging, and you were good to go. But seeking him out was impossible to explain, there’s really no other reason to approach him.

Maorum like him stayed near the coastline of the tribes that cared for them. There was a legend that long ago that a Maori warrior had followed a foe into the water, and Neptune was amazed at his bravery enough to spare his life- turning the tattoos into spikes and granting him stealth. The tribes had humored the old lore but admitted it was not lore they shared. 

The entire species was well known as aggressive and territorial, often taking up _undesirable_ jobs. And Wade— well— Wade stuck out even more. His scars marked him as _that_ maorum octo-mer, the one with twisted morals and a steadfast set of rules that no one understood.

But back to the point, bettas were nothing but trouble. They were territorial, aggressive, rude, and painfully full of themselves. The _last_ one Wade met called himself _Iron Man_ and had mated with a ridiculous looking neon tetramer that he insisted on calling _Cap_ the entire damn time. It was endearing in its weird way— but still very, very annoying. 

Because, honestly, _fuck betta-mers._

Wade needed to add a new line to his contracts. _No betta-mer territory hits._ He watched as the blue and red betta in front of him attacked a shark and dragged it back to his small pod to eat. His coloring was stunning from a distance, but Wade knew that was typical of most betta-mers. It seemed as though this territory spanned the cave systems below a particular island, ending near the drop-offs where they hunted. Maybe he’d say _No betta-mer territory hits unless they’re the target._ He’d love to take down an asshole. 

Unless they’re as pretty as this one.

 _No,_ Wade corrected himself, _focus._

He was waiting to kill an eel-mer who went by the name “Electro.” The man had stolen from multiple people, including his own mother. It was going to be an easy job— an eel’s normal routine was easy to predict. Wade just had to hang around in the little cave and not stir the water too much until Electro showed up. There were plenty of stalactites dripping down from the ceiling of the cave for Wade to latch onto and hide in. 

Eels like Electro tended to rely on their small shocks to stun anyone daring to challenge them, darting away in the few seconds they were unresponsive. Basically, stay far enough away, and they were worthless fighters. Also— make sure you don’t use an all-metal weapon. 

_Simple._

Or it should have been— back to that rule about no betta-mer territory.

He was dangling from a few stalactites and letting his most damaged tentacle throw a spear. He was mid-stab when he was knocked free from the rocks and slammed into the back of the cave. He watched as Electro tried to escape only to run into the betta-mer who was barring the path. Electro was charged up, however, and the mer stiffened at the unexpected shock. Some of his stunned fins caught the current and flowed free, showing off the bright shimmering red.

Electro was de-charged, and Wade was effectively hidden from sight behind the wall of fins. He took that opportunity to lunge through the water and catch the eel off guard, knife sinking cleanly into the body. Electro fell limp rather quickly and sank to the bottom, kicking up sand in his wake. Wade casually flicked at the water to stay afloat and watch to make sure the mer was well and truly dead.

It was for that reason he didn’t see the attack coming. One moment he was minding his own business, the next he was slammed into the wall of rocks outside the cave. He looked up and found himself only able to focus on how the sunbeams filtering through the water made the betta-mer sparkle. It brought out a beautiful contrast between his hair and pari fins, which were a deep blue with red tips, and— 

“What _the fuck_ did you just do?” the livid betta-mer shouted.

Wade let his tentacles idly inspect the damage to his body and rub the soreness from his muscles while as he glared at the mer. “I was fucking cleaning up your pod! A thank you would be nice.”

“He’s DEAD!” Mr. Fancy Fins shouted as he looked over at Electro. “He has a _mother,_ and now we have to—”

“Tell her that her no-good son is dead? Thanks, but no thanks, kid. I don’t do the whole _family_ thing.” 

He wasn’t sure what part of his statement made the betta-mer so upset, but he was all puffed up and thrashing around. Which, _adorable,_ but still an unnecessary complication. He wasn’t prepared for much more than just fighting Electro, and generally, that required less of his stabby things. Best to carry the least amount of metal when dealing with zappy targets and all. But right now, he could use some of his fancier weapons. 

“Listen, baby boy; you’re obviously upset… So I’m gonna go collect the rest of my pay and add your territory to my no-go list. Sound good?”

“It does _not_ sound good. You just killed someone!” 

Wade made to creep out of the alcove, only to be swatted back into the wall by a giant, blue betta tail. “I don’t mind getting a little rough, starfish, but I prefer to _at least_ get—”

The betta charged forward when Wade moved again, cornering him. The angrier he made the mer, the more the red lines of his tail fluffed out into fins. Wade was pretty sure it was supposed to look intimidating instead of arousing— but he never was one to be normal.

“Okay, flipper, I don’t know what messed up things you’ve been reading, but it’s only kinky if you have consent.” 

He growled. “That’s not my name.”

“Wouldn’t have guessed,” Wade quipped, “but unfortunately, you have yet to give me a name, so I’ll have to stick with calling you my sweet little jellyfish.”

The look of outrage on the betta’s face was well worth being slammed into the wall for the fourth damn time.

Wade held out his hand in greeting. “So, I’m Wade. The best merctopus hitman in the area. I used to think I should go by Deadpool, because, y'know- Dead mers left in pools of blood. But Merctopus was cooler. So. Wade, merc extraordinaire at your service,” he tilted his head to the side, pink fins flipping around at the crown of his head, “for a price, at least.” 

“You don’t _need_ my name for me to drag you in for this! You can’t just go around _killing_ people.” 

“See, you say that,” Wade poked at Electro with a few extended tentacles until he successfully rolled the eel over, “But Mr. Zappy Tail here would disagree.” 

The betta recoiled. “STOP TOUCHING HIM, YOU PSYCHO!”

Wade rolled his eyes and let out a stream of bubbles. “It’s not like he cares. And honestly, it’s not like the rest of the pod is gonna mourn much. He was a prick.” 

There was more agitated swishing— probably the wrong thing to say, then.

“I’m sure his mother is a fine woman, but—”

“You are not allowed to talk about Mrs. Dillion!” 

Wade leaned up against the rockface. “Listen, I’m not sorry for what I did. I’m hired to take out problems; I do it. And now’s the point where I gather my pearls and leave, starfish, so—”

Wade shimmied out of the way of the striking tail and darted from the alcove, swimming as fast as he could to avoid getting caught. The biggest problem with being a traveling merctopus was never being sure-finned in any territory. The caves were familiar to the mers, but never to him. He had to rely on luck more often than he preferred— especially when he was barely armed. A maorum should never be so poorly armed; each tentacle should have a weapon. He felt naked.

By the time Wade got to Norman Osborn’s home, the betta had almost caught up.

Norman’s home was a modest-sized cave for the pod’s standards, the main room with stalagmites jutting up to relax against and seaweed weaved between them into pockets to stash belongings. He had taken time to knock the unwanted growths down— or at least paid someone else to do so. If Wade was going to set up a home, he might be inclined to follow this setup. Too bad the growly one would definitely not let him stay long enough to learn how.

“Get _back here,_ you prick!”

“Peter?” a voice from the entrance called— just the cuttle-mer Wade needed.

"Peter, huh?" Wade twirled around to face his pursuer while continuing to swim backward, out of reach. "Peter Peter penguin eater."

“No.”

“But it’s so cute; it matches your cute little nose!” 

Wade ducked as Peter’s tail took another swipe at him. He darted into the cave’s entrance and drifted to a stop behind Norman, whose coloring was rapidly shifting in agitation. Wade wrapped his tentacles around a few stalagmites, ready to launch himself into movement once more if needed. Thankfully, Peter came to a stop, not yet willing to charge through the cuttle-mer to get to Wade.

“Listen, I’ll be out of your pretty little gills as soon as I get paid.” Wade glanced towards his client.

“I—” Norman started, looking between the two. 

_“You_ hired this asshole?” 

Wade watched, only half interested, as Norman tried to convince Peter he hadn’t. Honestly, Wade just wanted his pearls so he could head out. Peter had _definitely_ bruised him, so he was less patient than normal. _Plus,_ when he was hired, the dude had bargained enough to piss Wade off— so, fuck him.

“Listen, you can talk all you want, but we both know you hired me,” Wade drawled.

Peter let out a stream of bubbles and started puffing up again, splayed inner gills flaring around him in a frilled collar of rage— impressively more angry than Wade had managed before. “He _has a family._ How could you?”

“He has a mother that he routinely steals from,” Norman argued, swimming around the area restlessly. “She’ll be better off. The pod will care for her.”

Peter swished about in agitation. “The pod that contains her son’s murderer!”

“Teeechnically,” Wade started, “I have no plans to join the pod, but I can be swayed if your mating dance is as pretty as this.”

Peter spun around on him. 

“Whoa, whoa, we’re on him, he’s the one who you expected better from, Baby boy!” Wade quickly latched onto the ceiling— oddly flat compared to all the other caves the pod used around the island — to pull himself up and out of the way of the potential strikes his sarcasm would cause.

Norman was trying to avoid the attention, matching his coloring to the cave wall he was clinging to, flattening out his normally moving side fin and allowing the tentacles around his face to hide most of his features. He was obviously out of practice, as it failed spectacularly.

“I can still see you,” Wade pointed out.

Norman’s skin flushed purple before trying to mirror the cave again.

Peter swished around, positioning himself to have Wade and Norman easily in view, blocking the entrance to the cave. “Well, I can be mad at you both. I can fight you both, _and I can win.”_

Wade crossed his arms over his chest. “Go on, then.” 

This time when Peter charged forward, Wade dropped and wrapped Peter in his tentacles. Wade was careful to leave space next to Peter’s fins so that he didn’t damage them. Wade understood the anger and the reaction; he just wanted to get through this without more injuries for himself. He gently swayed Peter, like calming a tantrum-throwing toddler, as they talked. Peter struggled to get free, swearing at Wade the entire time.

“Listen, Baby Boy, if you’re _trying_ to do anything outside of turning me on with this wiggling… you’re gonna fail.” 

Peter squawked at the implication and tried to squirm free of Wade’s grasp with renewed vigor, only to realize that Wade had wrapped his tentacles all over, and no matter how he struggled, he wouldn’t get free without damage to his fins.

Wade was too distracted by Osborn trying to slink along the wall to notice the tension in Peter. “And you— I wouldn’t try that… I only need my hands to kill. Well, I wouldn’t kill you. Dead men can’t pay. But—” Wade noticed Peter’s lack of struggle, “You okay there, beautiful?”

“How the fuck would I be okay?” Peter muttered darkly.

Wade tilted his head. “Within the range of _helplessly trapped,_ are you okay? No fin damage?”

Peter huffed and tried to dig his claws into the tentacle around his wrist, giving up and refusing to answer he was okay. “I’m not injured.” 

“Good. So sit tight— get it, tight?” he gently squeezed Peter, “And let me get paid, and then we can go get a fermented pouch.”

“I hate you.”

Wade snorted. “Join the club. I’m the president.”

“You,” Peter uselessly jabbed at him again, “have issues.”

“Take that back. I am a perfectly well-adjusted adult. Can’t you tell? I’m a hitman!” 

Peter let out a stream of bubbles and glared up at Wade. 

“C’mon! That was a good joke!” 

“I only laugh when I’m _not_ trapped— I’m funny like that.” 

Wade pulled out one of his bone daggers and pointed it towards the rather dull looking mer who was, once again, trying to slip away. 

“Okay, what part of _don’t piss off murderous octopi…_ octopuses… no. octopussies. Yeah. That. What part of _don’t piss off murderous octopussies_ do you not quite understand? It’s like, a really dumb idea.” 

“So is _hiring_ a murderous octopus,” Peter muttered.

“Hmm. Good point. So with that in mind— I will remind you. I know many ways to make you regret trying to skip out without paying. You,” Wade shook the dagger at Norman, “will enjoy approximately none of them. I,” tracing the blade along his lip and smirking, “would enjoy most.” 

Norman paled. “Only most?”

Wade shrugged; he didn’t need to get into the whole 'reliving trauma is unpleasant' conversation right now.

Norman grabbed something from one of his seaweed pouches and tossed it to Wade before swimming through the small space Wade left him to squeeze through. Wade could have moved. But, again, _Norman tried to bargain!_

“If I let you go, are you going to attack me?” Wade asked while rubbing the pouch of pearls in his hands and trying to judge if he was short by too much.

“Probably.” 

Wade shifted Peter around until they could see each other. “Fine then. I’m gonna keep cuddling you.”

Peter narrowed his eyes. “I’m pretty sure this isn’t _cuddling,_ you complete and utter squid.”

“Sure it is! I’m enjoying it. Therefore, it’s obviously cuddling.” 

Peter let out a stream of bubbles. “I can’t tell if you’re serious.”

Wade shrugged and gently squeezed Peter. “Most people can’t. I’ve given up trying, myself. It’s easier that way.”

There was a flash of panic on Peter’s face before he responded. “What the hell is your problem?”

“My theraporpus says it stems from losing my Celine. And y’know, the whole ‘caught in a net and experimented on together’ part of the loss.” 

“Your _what?”_ Peter squeaked.

“Theraporpus… the adorable round dude that I pay to deal with all—”

Peter cut him off. “I’m aware of what a therapist is, you squid.”

“You know, that’s probably not nice to squids. They’re not all that bad— outside of the whole inky slappy anger issue bit. Though that _might_ just be the one that strayed too close to the dump spouts…” 

Peter cut in. “I meant the sea lion part.” 

“She was actually a siren. Beautiful woman with a beautiful voice— anyways, it’s _rude_ to talk about exes on a first date. Especially dead ones.”

“First off, not a date. Second… did she actually _know_ you were dating?”

Wade put a hand over his heart in fake shock. “What do you mean? What’s a guy supposed to think when you chase him through the ocean and spend time in his tentacles? And of course she _knew—_ these are strictly consentacles.” 

Peter let out a burst of bubbles and puffed up as much as he could. “Since when?”

“Well, outside of my job and avoiding being killed, they are!” Wade defended. 

“I wasn’t going to _kill_ you. Just… drag you to the patrol.” 

Wade raised his brow. “Yeah. Sure. My bruised ribs definitely believe you.” 

Peter glared at him.

“I will let you go if you promise not to slam me into any more rocks. I do _not_ need any more scars.” 

“Maybe. If you aren’t an utter squid again.”

“That sounds difficult.” 

Peter scrunched his nose. “For you, it probably will be.”

“What can I do to make it up to you?” Wade asked, adding in a pout for good measure.

Peter’s gills flared. “You can turn yourself into the patrol.”

“Ehhh, how about no. They probably wouldn’t take me anyways, seeing as how I’m a scary maorum merctopus, and they don’t wanna get on my bad side. How about _insteeead,_ I testify that the tricksey cuttle-mer hired someone to kill an eel?”

Peter gave Wade an odd look. “Why would you do that? Isn’t turning in the people that pay you bad for business?”

Wade shrugged. “There’s plenty of pods in the sea that need a professional. Plus— people don't expect me to be particularly stable, so a fucked over client here and there isn't a shock.”

There was a long pause as Peter continued to scowl at Wade. “Fine. You help me turn in Norman, and I won’t attack you. Try and get away, and I _will_ hunt you down, and I _will_ win that fight.”

“Sure, sure.” Wade relaxed and let his tentacles fall away and unwind from Peter’s body. Once free, the betta-mer shook himself and fanned out completely as if he needed to stretch and make sure every bit of him was okay. Wade was transfixed as the sight. _“Pretty.”_

Peter scowled in response. “I don’t want to hear that from you! Now, come on. We have work to do.”

* * *

“This is a bad idea, man.” 

Peter swatted at Sam with his tail. “I’m _aware_ of that, but if we want his cooperation, we gotta be nice.”

Bucky swam up next to Sam and hit him in the back of the head. “Doll, we ain’t exactly the great ideas crowd anyways.”

Sam bristled. “Don’t call me doll, it’s creepy.” 

Bucky shrugged and cuddled up close to Peter instead. He had always been a clingy friend, swimming close to everyone and continuously wrapping them in his silvery tail. Peter mostly just ignore the touches, allowing Bucky to steal his body heat as he flirted with everything that moved. He wasn’t sure if it was a “seahorse” thing or just a “Bucky” thing.

Sam was off to the side when Wade crept up, still grumbling about Bucky’s lack of standards and how they should just avoid the weird killer dude. 

“Well, _that’s_ not nice, little bluegill.”

Peter let out a stream of bubbles but couldn’t swat at Wade with Bucky clinging to him. “He’s a _walleye,_ you squid.” 

Wade looked Sam up and down and held out his hands, going between wide-set and thin. “Hmmm, I guess it _is_ a cold-current area.” 

Before Sam could take offense, Bucky was laughing and twirling Peter around so he could poke Sam’s abs. “I like him already.” 

“You _would_ like the asshole.” 

Peter dragged them all to the cave he had been slowly fixing up. He wasn’t initially sure he wanted to show Wade, but it was better than introducing a dangerous mer to Aunt May in their home. So he had packed up some fermented kelps and algae and told his friends to meet him where Wade could easily spot them. 

Wade kept shooting dirty looks at Bucky as they swam around to Peter’s cave, and Bucky kept on linking his arms around Peter in more suggestive ways. Peter was not too happy to see Wade’s usually red tentacles pulsing darker and darker as Bucky keeps Peter in his grip. Even mid-murder, Wade hadn’t darkened much. Bucky had grown bored of clinging on Peter after a bit, starting to poke at Wade’s spiked tentacles instead. 

By the end of their first pouches, Peter was loosening up a bit. He wasn’t drunk yet, but that wasn’t the goal tonight anyway. Tonight, he just wanted to keep an eye on the murderer. The murderer who seemed to enjoy making Bucky laugh. 

_“That_ is just _weird,_ man.”

Peter didn’t look away from the sight while replying to Sam. “Yup.” 

“Them getting along makes me feel all wrong.” 

Peter held out another pouch of fermented kelp towards Sam. “Join the club.” 

Sam downed the kelp quickly before circling the other men. Bucky had allowed Wade to trap him, seeming to be happy in the tight confines of the tentacles as he turned his attention to sending any rock he could reach in various directions, smiling as Wade would catch them without effort. 

Once their attention turned to him, Peter gave up on staying any form of sober and started downing pouch after pouch of fermented algae. There were only so many pick-up lines he could shrug off. He _knew_ Bucky was just playing around— they had tried back in their early teens, and it ended with laughter and a close bond.

Bucky grinned at Peter and dragged him close. “I can be the titanic to your ocean, honey, let me go down on you.”

 _“Bucky,”_ Peter snapped, “That was a _tragedy; how_ could you use it as a pickup line?” 

Bucky shrugged.

“There were _millions_ of fish displaced! And all of the garbage floating around for so many moon cycles!” 

Peter was fluffing up into his fighting stance when Sam shouldered him. “We _both_ know you’ve got the darkest sense of humor of us all, Petey.”

Peter broke into a grin. “No one will believe you.” 

Wade snagged the two friends and drew them close to Bucky in his make-shift tentacle nest. “Are you a volcano? Because I lava you already.”

Peter blushed at that, the blue from his pari fins bleeding onto his cheeks. Wade squeezed him a little tighter, smiling as Peter relaxed in his hold. 

* * *

Peter and Wade were floating together as the local guards dragged off Norman. He was still screaming about how Wade needed to be arrested too, but with all the witnesses claiming the killer was a shark, his cries were ignored. Wade had already spent the better part of three weeks in Peter’s small cave with them. They had to wait for the patrol to travel past, picking up miscreants from each pod, and cleaning the ocean floor. Their crimes would dictate the length of their trips.

Talking morality over with Peter during that wait, Wade managed to convince him that there were three types of criminals. The first were those who would never change and didn’t help podciety, like Electro. The second was Norman’s type— idiots who thought their privileges put them above the law and just needed to be knocked down a peg or ten. Then finally, ones like Wade— ones who broke the law in order to keep the peace.

“You know, he’s only going to come back to the pod after a few weeks.” 

Peter turned and glared. “And?”

“You might need someone to keep him in line,” Wade offered, sneaking a tentacle along Peter’s ribs. “Someone besides you to remind him.”

Peter swatted it away, moving out of reach. “And I suppose you’re willing to help out of the goodness of your hearts?”

“Nah,” Wade crept closer, “those things have nothing but love for you and shriveled darkness where my ‘give a fuck’ used to be.” Wade didn’t point out that the love was probably the only goodness left in him and would qualify his motives as “the goodness of his heart.”

“Well, we aren’t going to pay you. And even if we did, it’d be temporary, and that means you’d leave and we’d be back here.”

“What if I _don’t_ leave?”

Peter let out a long stream of bubbles before turning to Wade. “Listen—”

“Hear me out! I don’t _need_ this hobby anymore if I’m gonna mate.” 

“And if I say no? Like I have every other time you asked?” 

Wade shrugged— the twenty-fifth time was a charm. “Then I’ll be the weird nomadic former hit-mer flitting randomly about the ocean, eating a baby shark here and there to survive.”

Peter swam closer. “Just like that?”

“Probably. I’d stay close, though.”

“Oh, really?”

Wade reached out a hand for him. “Octopussies aren’t exactly big on the whole sleeping around thing, y’know. All three of my hearts agree: I’m yours, no matter what.”

Peter tried to glare. “But why? All we’ve done so far is fight. You were swollen and bruised for _days.”_

“I’m already healed. _So_ healed, in fact, that I wanna try asking you out again. Plus, with everything I’ve been through, I always say: I better make the most of today.”

Peter let out a small burst of laughter at the rhyme.

“So, what do you say… You, me, and a slaughtered tuna? We can go find a nice sandbar to eat it on.” 

Peter took Wade’s hand and let some of his more decorative fins display. “Let’s go, then.”

Wade smiled and dragged Peter to the spot he had been hunting from the whole moon cycle. Most of the pod either allowed one of the hunters to provide for them or hunted from this small drop-off, but he had a vantage point that no one else seemed to use.

It was a small scoop out of the rocky shelf that dropped through a pitch-black tunnel before opening up to the rest of the deepwater underneath. The sun fell like glowing ocean spikes into the dark recesses, glinting off the scales of fish, hoping to hide in the shallow nooks of the tunnel. It was the perfect hunting spot. He passed off one of his blades to Peter, smiling as even more of his fins billowed out from his tail. 

As soon as Peter turned towards the fish milling around below them, he picked one out to catch, darting off and chasing it through the rocks and plants. He rounded one of the larger rock pillars to see Wade gleefully holding up the fish he had been hunting on his spear. 

Peter couldn’t help the reaction he had— instantly letting loose all his fins as he reached out and touched the meal Wade had caught for him. 

“Well, it’s not as good as I could have done, but I guess it’s enough for the two of us.” 

Wade didn’t point out that it was _obviously_ the one Peter had been tracking, or that Peter was still in full presentation. 

They swam to their little cove overlooking the dropoff, Wade clinging to some of the rocks and carefully reaching between Peter’s fins to hold him close. Peter wriggled free after a few minutes.

“Have you ever had sushi?” Peter asked.

“I think we _are_ what’s considered sushi.”

Peter rolled his eyes and took off. He swam back to the pod’s cave system, appearing again just as the sand bar was beginning to crest over the waves. Wade could see a small satchel clutched in Peter’s hands. He was soon pried from his perch and dragged to the shallows of the sand bar. 

When Peter settled, he opened the satchel, and Wade saw white… worms? Maybe. Peter laid out a strip of seaweed then scooped chunks of the worms into neat piles on the leaf.

Peter proceeded to slice the biggest chunks of meat off of the tuna with the bone dagger Wade gave him for hunting. It was _supposed_ to be used mainly for the killing, but Peter was able to slice off chunks of meat easily, and Wade was smitten. All that attitude _and_ knife skills?

Wade tried not to show his disgust when offered the worms, but the way Peter’s fin deflated had him quickly pressing the mound of grossness into his mouth. 

_It tasted amazing._

“What kinda worms are these?” he asked around his mouthful of food. “They’re good, not like—” Wade shook his head. “Anyways, glad I tried it.”

Peter’s face mirrored his earlier disgust. “It’s _rice,_ not worms.” 

Wade dug one of the worms from his mouth and held it close to his eyes, not missing the glare from Peter— manners, right. Celine always picked on him for that. “It looks like the worms they forced me to eat when…” he motioned to the vast majority of his scars. “They insisted we were fish, so we must like worms.”

Peter’s fins plastered themselves back to his body as his delicate fingers traced the patterns on his tail. “I didn’t know.” 

“Eh,” Wade shrugged, “Not really first-date material, is it? Hey Baby Fins, let’s talk tragic backstories!”

Peter laughed. “I suppose that’s more a second date thing.”

“Third, probably. Dead exes and painful experiments are heavy.”

“Experiments. You said that before, what is it?” Peter’s fins were still barely showing. 

Wade huffed. “So, we’re skipping right to it.”

“Not like we followed any rules leading up to this.” 

“Near as I could tell, it was a pain game. They’d slice us up and take notes. When Celine started to sing to try and heal me… they all looked happy and focused on me. She faded fairly fast after that. A Siren’s heart slowly breaking— it does terrible things to them. They start to tear themselves apart to save their mate.” 

Peter nodded. “I have a friend from the land near here, Negasonic— her wings are… _a thing_ because of her last mate. Yukio barely saved her.”

Wade made a face. “A friend. _From the land.”_

Peter shrunk back in every inch of fin that had relaxed. “Yes. It’s where we get the rice.” 

Wade cringed at his mistake; he was trying to _woo_ the betta not upset him more. “Celine used to talk to humans, too. She had a human form, y’know. Human, bird, _and_ fish. Almost everything a man could want.”

Peter smoothed along his fin, tracing the lighter blue webbing as he refused to look at Wade. _Great,_ Wade thought, _let’s make it worse._

“Uh, but yeah. Just be careful, I guess? No need for anyone else I care about to get abducted."

A few of Peter's fins drifted higher into the water. "You care about me?"

"Haven't I been saying that for weeks?"

"No…" A tiny smile pulled at Peter's lips. "You've just been talking like you want to take an attractive mate and settle down."

"Baby boy, not just any mer will do. Ya' see, I've got a soft spot for strong, brave, and mouthy."

“Too bad I’m not a bird and human too, then,” Peter snapped, quieter than his usual snark.

_“Oh.”_

“What?” Peter was still snippy, but the smile hadn’t shrunk. 

“Starfish, you don’t need anything other than you to snag yourself an octopussie—”

“Pretty sure it’s just octopus,” Peter muttered.

“My species, my call. Now. _My Starfish,_ you don’t _need_ to be all three. You’re perfect as-is. I can’t explain it; it’s the jellies. It’s that thing. You know, you feel it. When you really believe in something despite everyone telling you you’re wrong.”

Peter blushed, and his fins started to unfurl more again. 

“Now. Back to this,” Wade held up the rice chunk, “explain.” 

* * *

The weeks had quickly passed, and Norman was set to return to the pod in a few days. They had gone on multiple dates, and Wade had even met Nega and Yukio. It… didn’t go well the first time. Nega had utterly flipped out, screaming about distressed mates and letting her wings show. Peter had rarely been allowed to see the flames engulf her like that, and Wade had tried to “protect” Peter, which only infuriated the distressed siren more. Yukio insisted they leave immediately for her to deal with the meltdown.

Yukio had called to them later, sitting on the beach with them and explaining how Wade still smelled of the siren he had been mated to. Nega had inched forward after that and managed to keep her reaction to a general _flamey everywhere_ thing instead of full-on furious _avenge the wronged siren_ form. Wade seemed subdued while remembering Celine, happy to answer questions, but lacking his usual dramatic flare.

Peter wasn’t sure if this would be where Wade left. Norman would return, and there would be tension. But, if Wade stuck around, Peter was planning to ask him to—

“It’s like destiny,” Wade said as he slipped his tentacles around Peter. 

“It’s not destiny,” Peter narrowed his eyes at Wade, “you’re here because—”

“Yeah, yeah. My life used to be all ‘They pay me, or kiss me, or they stick a finger in me.’ It was really gross.”

 _“Stick a finger in you?”_ Peter shouted.

Wade waved it off with a small blush. “Doesn’t matter. I ended up here, and I’m done with it all.” 

Peter ducked his head. “And you’re staying.”

Wade pulled him close and rested his head on Peter’s shoulder. “And I’m staying.”

Peter could feel Wade’s fins wiggling against his hair and clasped Wade’s hand. He was _definitely_ going to need to make a bubble nest this mating season if that was true. But now, they had to focus on Norman, who was coming back to the pod soon. 

Peter and Sam had decided to clean out his cave and hope the warm welcome might change things for the better. Wade had made a few comments about optimism but still helped them jet out the excess sand from tides over the five weeks Norman spent on clean-up. 

In reality, Norman had come back angry and had started to lay into Peter until Wade had darkened to a deathly black in the side of his vision. Norman had immediately apologized and even went as far as patting the three friends on the shoulder before rushing past Wade and hiding in his now clean cave. 

Peter had spent the first week after Norman’s return bracing for Wade to leave. 

Wade didn’t leave. He didn’t even seem to want to. Peter had watched Wade slowly make friends in the pod, latching onto Bucky in particular. The two had similar humor (which seemed to focus mostly on making Peter blush as often as possible when he was around), and they were great at hunting together. 

The pod accepted Wade, even with his past that _just happened_ to be leaked. Norman denied it, but he left shortly after it didn’t get Wade removed from the area. He made up a tale about starting a new pod and tried (unsuccessfully) to pull some of the more influential pod members with him. Wade still stayed, and the waters were warming up, so Peter made a decision. 

He found a beautiful cove near the area he introduced Wade to rice at. It was safe from the tide but would let the light filter through his bubbles. It would be the perfect spot to lay his little eggs. He hoped they wouldn’t go to waste.

* * *

Peter was acting _weird_ lately, and Bucky was not helping. Wade had been poking around, trying to figure it all out.

When he had turned to Sam, he had taken one bite of fermented kelp and stared Wade down before swimming away. He might have mumbled about being too old for this shit, but Wade was more focused on figuring out what Peter was up to. 

Wade was _worried_ because even before Peter gave in to his charms, he was never this secretive. Wade always knew exactly where he stood. But now, Peter was barely around, and when he was, he drifted off to sleep easily. He didn’t even join them on nights they sat around eating fermented kelp, choosing instead to nibble all day on fish until he was full.

If Wade asked about it, Peter would act all nervous before distracting Wade with something. Considering how easily distracted Wade was, that became a problem. However, they did end up spending time with everyone in the pod, exploring every nook and cranny in the area, and Wade was even introduced to Peter’s aunt.

When Peter finally swam up to Wade one day, fins flaring and shrinking erratically and asked if they could go someplace new, it left Wade feeling both relieved and nervous. He was finally getting down to the bottom of this mystery. So they headed out towards an intimate cove, and Wade hoped for the best.

Upon reaching their destination, Wade gaped at the sight before him. The small area was closed in, blocking off the strong ocean currents and leaving behind a sun-warmed pool. Large palm fronds decorated with flower petals were laid across the surface of the water. Across all of that, completely covering the top of the pool, were bubbles that bent the light into a brilliant display of color.

“Wow,” Wade said in a rush of water as he drifted through the pool, taking it all in. “This is…” He turned around to look at the betta of his life and lost all coherent thought for a moment.

Peter was gorgeous, lit up by the bubbles’ reflections like this. The water gently moved his fins, where they expanded as much as they could. The rainbows refracting onto the thin layers were a sight to behold, and to know it was all for him had Wade speechless.

“So, I made us a nest. I wanted you to look it over and—”

Wade cut him off with a kiss, pulling their bodies close. Peter made a noise of surprise before melting into it, his fins fluttering and arms wrapping around Wade’s neck. They twirled slowly in the water, causing the rippling light to dance along their skin. It felt like a dream that Wade didn’t want to wake from.

He internally shook his head at missing the signs. Peter was _obviously_ building a clutch inside him. The careful movements, denial of fermented kelps, slight widening in his proximal area. _Meeting the family!_ Aunt May should have been a clue, especially when she threatened Wade to take care of her son. He was such an idiot.

“We should—” Peter started, face dazed with growing arousal.

“I know,” Wade cut in. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of everything.”

Peter’s lips were parted, fins still flared around them, but his eyes were losing that far away look. He was about to take control like the bossy betta he was, always scolding Wade about trying to do everything himself. But Peter deserved a little pampering! Not to mention, Wade was _fantastic_ at pampering. He’d prove himself to be the best mate, the absolute most fantastic mating experience a mer could have. There was no way Wade was going to give up his chance to offer Peter his all. 

And those parted lips were an invitation his instinct just couldn’t ignore. Peter was begging to be filled with Wade’s nourishment. Well, Wade wasn’t about to deny his mate. Wrapping tentacles around Peter, Wade twisted them around until Peter was facing away, pulling a startled cry from the betta and giving Wade a clear picture of that long torso leading down, down, down to Peter’s plumped up proximal area, swelled with eggs waiting for Wade to care for. He let his tentacles glide along the skin and scales of his love, trying to memorize the look of the rainbows landing on him. 

“Ah, Wade!” Peter called out and began to wiggle, so Wade wrapped Peter up tight, no longer a gentle exploration. One tentacle slipped into Peter’s mouth, teasing at the soft flesh inside and the sharp teeth grazing along the sensitive tip. Wade moaned at the feeling as he filled Peter with the nourishment he should have been providing the entire time Peter had been growing his eggs. _Better late than never._

Wade threaded his hand into the beautiful hair on Peter’s head, pulling it back to let the tentacle reach farther to avoid spilling any of the precious fluid. “Yeah, Jellyfish, that’s it. Drink up. I have plenty to keep you healthy.”

Peter shivered at the words, and his fins twitched with each soft tease of suction from Wade’s tentacles along his body. Wade slid his free hand down to cup the curve of Peter’s backside, loving how smooth and pronounced it was. Peter looked so good like this.

Wade had two tentacles teasing at Peter’s slit, encouraging it to open wide to handle what was to come. Each time he was able to pull it open a little wider, Peter would moan around the tentacle in his throat. Wade’s coloring rippled with excitement just from hearing it. Wade was beyond honored Peter had chosen this. Had chosen _him._ Wade was massaging Peter all over with his roaming tentacles, paying special attention when Peter would press into one.

“I’m hoping our guppies look more like you,” Wade said, offhand. The ocean deserved to be filled with beautiful mers like Peter.

There were a few gurgling sounds of pleasure in response as Wade pulled them closer together. He wrapped his mating arm around Peter, letting it trail down the mer’s stomach and down to the now gaping slit. After some teasing and a bit of impatient thrashing from Peter’s fins, Wade slipped it inside. He worked it deep with as much patience as he could muster, allowing Peter to adjust to the unusual girth of it. The spikes at the tip would help keep him inside as he tended to the clutch properly, designed to allow a maorum to stay connected even if they needed to fight mid-mating, and Wade was happy to feel that Peter seemed to enjoy the rhythmic flaring as he worked closer to Peter's precious clutch.

Wade played along the soft flesh inside, sucking and caressing it, focusing on whatever areas caused Peter’s fins to twitch and tremble. Watching Peter come undone had arousal and excitement pumping hard through Wade’s system. His gills flared as he sucked in more water, and it rushed from his mouth in a content sigh as Peter’s back arched and his body pressed into Wade’s strong tentacles.

Finally, Wade breached Peter’s womb and could feel the eggs. They were delicate and dainty. He shifted them with the utmost care, separating them and counting as he went. The number was so small, he could feel that from the onset, and it worried him, but he was determined to give those eggs all the attention they deserved — and Peter, too.

Twenty-two was the final count. Twenty-two eggs Peter had produced just for Wade.

So Wade took his time massaging the walls of Peter’s womb and coating each egg thoroughly so that there was no doubt it would be fertilized. The sensation of releasing had him shivering in pleasure, but it was nothing compared to the oversensitized thrashing from Peter. Wade could feel the spasms inside with each orgasm that was ripped out of Peter.

Wade couldn’t help preening a bit at his skills. Peter acted like he’d never been so thoroughly pleasured in all his life. Wade had undoubtedly learned a few things during his travels. He hummed as Peter swallowed the last of what kai Wade had to offer. Peter’s jewel-toned abdomen was swollen from multiple sources, and Wade couldn’t help running his hands over it as the feeding tentacle lazily slipped from between Peter’s lips. It would take some time to replenish his nutritional stores, but once it was, he'd be sure there were no delays in feeding Peter once more.

His mate was going to be fat and happy.

They floated for a time, content and sated, Wade happily hugging his beautiful betta close under their prismatic nest. His mating tentacle shuffled around lazily, making sure to keep his seed stirred up for the little eggs. Peter twitched and made adorable little noises with each movement. Wade was so happy—

“What… exactly… are you doing?” Peter choked out, his hands gripping tight at whatever part of Wade he could reach.

Oh no. That was not a good sign. What could have possibly gone wrong? “Uhhh… mating?”

Peter sucked in a few steadying gulps of water before managing, in a voice far calmer than his trembling body suggested he was, “Wade… you do know that bettas normally _lay_ our clutch, right?”

“Um.”

“In a bubble nest. Like the one we are under. Right now.”

Wade stopped the movement of his mating arm. “I, uh, I did _not,_ in fact, happen to know that…”

Peter squirmed, his face slightly pinched as he did so. “They were ready to release,” he murmured.

“Did you want to…”

“Well, we already started this way, might as well—” he cut off with a moan as Wade’s mating tentacle eagerly resumed its task before Peter had even completed the thought.

Wade’s instincts screamed at him to make sure each egg had plenty of attention. He was used to fertilizing thousands, not _twenty-two,_ so it gave him plenty of time to allow for more individualized care of their clutch. He even focused on spurting out a bit more seed to make sure Peter was as full as possible. Wade also massaged along Peter’s walls, instigating quite a few orgasms from Peter to really shake things up inside.

The fact that Peter was a squirming mess while wrapped up in all of Wade’s arms was a happy bonus.

“Oh Poseidon, there’s so much,” Peter moaned.

Wade chuckled and carefully began to pull out. He focused on the sensation at the tip of his mating tentacle. It was strange to feel it detach, but also satisfying in a way as it lodged itself into Peter’s opening, keeping all of Wade’s seed safely inside. He'd made sure the spikes had gripped firmly but not painfully as he willed his body to complete the mating, the fresh tip making him almost cringe against the cold of the water— he couldn't imagine this in the main ocean instead of a small sun-baked bubble nest.

“Wade, _what the fuck?”_ Peter whined. “I’m so full.”

Wade grinned. “Hush, my little jellyfish. I made sure each egg gets as much room as possible to absorb—”

 _“Wade!”_ Peter snapped, his voice somewhere between anger and uncertainty. Wade’s tentacles loosened in surprise, allowing Peter to take advantage and whirl around to have them face each other, though he winced and lilted sideways at the abrupt movement before Wade caught him. “How long do you expect me to stay like this?”

 _Uh oh, again._ “Well, just for a short time. I should’ve had some preparations for this! I’ll go gather some food for us both—”

Peter poked his shoulder. “This is not how it works!”

Wade looked sheepish. “How does it work for you?” 

_“Normally,_ we make the nest and dance for our mates.” Something flashed across Peter’s face, as if he was genuinely disappointed that he didn’t get to dance for Wade. “If they accept, we release our clutch,” Peter pointed up to the display above them, “and they help us place each egg in the bubbles. Then, after mating, the nest is fertilized, and we guard it until hatching.”

“Oh,” Wade’s fins stopped flipping around happily. “I’m sorry.” Was that all it took? No wonder bettas had so few eggs if just a light dusting could make them viable.

Peter noticed Wade’s drooping posture and held out his arms, encouraging a few tentacles to wrap around him before nestling his head in the crook of Wade’s neck. “S’okay,” he mumbled. He took one of Wade’s hands and encouraged it to sooth over the taut skin of his heavily swollen abdomen. “I thought we’d release them after you were done. I just wasn’t prepared to…”

“Become a pufferfish?”

Peter snorted. “That’s not far off from how I feel… So, tell me about how _you_ mate.”

Wade cautiously stroked and massaged Peter’s body, easing the stiffness from it. “Well, during our courting, we feed each other the kai I gave you earlier.” He flipped his feeding tentacle into Peter’s line of sight. “Then, we make a nest and then gather gifts. Food, pretty things, weapons.”

Peter snorted at that. “Violent asshole.” 

Wade shrugged, unable to help the smirk on his face as he refrained from mentioning that bettas were violent enough not to _need_ weapons. “Then we slide together and take our time slowly agitating the eggs. Make sure each and every one is properly seated, not touching another egg.” Wade grazed his fingers along Peter’s bulge, right where Peter’s scales started, smiling at the thought of his clutch safe and sound. “We feed each other bits of food and constant streams of the kai.”

“It was delicious,” Peter admitted, blushing.

Wade rumbled a bit at the praise. “I’m glad. Once that’s done, we leave the tips of the mating tentacle to hold all the eggs and their coating in for a few days. It’s a time to bond and relax together. Once the eggs have absorbed the fluids, we sort them out. If they are alive, we protect them in shifts. If not—” 

Peter squeezed him. The break in his voice hurt Peter’s heart. 

“Well, you’ll see. We honor them.” 

Peter nodded. “Then go get some food, and we can cuddle here.” 

The wiggle in Wade’s fins made Peter laugh. He’d do anything for his dumb squid.

* * *

“Oh my Neptune!” Bucky yelled.

“Bucky, I swear I will end you.” 

“You— you—”

 _“Bucky,_ think about what you’re about to say,” Peter warned. 

“You are _huge!”_ Bucky curled over his own clutch-filled stomach.

Peter tried to swat at him, but thought better of injuring the babies— it wasn’t their fault that their Uncle Bucky was an asshole. Plus, moving was not fun. It had already been two weeks, and Wade’s plug was holding firm, though Wade insisted it was going to be falling out soon. It was the first time Peter had been allowed to leave the nest since the mating. He looked _horrible._

Sam slapped the back of Bucky’s head. “Lay off, James. You know he’s not built for it like you are.” 

“Oooooooh, Jaaaaames,” Wade sing-songed, “someone is in trooooouble.” 

Bucky flipped him off and swam away from Sam, shooting him a nasty look. 

“You know, you still haven’t told me _who_ he’s carrying for,” Peter said. 

“And I won’t," Sam insisted, "I value my scales too much, man.” 

Peter let out a stream of bubbles. “So, Nat.” 

“I very much _did not say that.”_

“I’m glad she found someone,” Peter smiled, leaning against Wade and letting his mate massage away some of the soreness. Who knew a murder could end with love?

**Author's Note:**

> If you spotted one of my errant quotes from other movies, let me know.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Bonding With Another Person](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28144821) by [TheStrange_One](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheStrange_One/pseuds/TheStrange_One)




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